


Lack of Forethought

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean, Dean is an asS VIRGIN, Dean kinda hates himself at first, Dubious Consent, Episode Related, M/M, One Shot, PWP, Top Sam, i also hate myself, i got carried away, it was supposed to be shorter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-03-14 17:19:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3419090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean are in the bunker, and things are tense like always. A heated argument between the two has progressively fewer kind words- and then Sam throws in the bombshell. What does Dean do in retaliation?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lack of Forethought

**Author's Note:**

> this whole fic is a lack of forethought to be completely honest
> 
> for my perv internet friend, you dumb perv you 
> 
> and holy shit I just realized I'm very sorry if you subscribed because I edit this a lot even though I never seem to finish it oh my god I'm so sorry if you've gotten 1000000 emails
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, nor do I own any of the characters or scenarios.

At the moment, Sam and Dean were in the bunker, and an argument was arising again: why Dean had gone to such great lengths to keep Sam alive when he could have saved _hundreds_ of other people by locking up the gates to hell.

"If you were in my situation, I'm sure you would have done the same thing for me," Dean reasoned to Sam with a half-hearted smile.

Sam grimaced and looked away, keeping his eyes downcast as he murmured, "No, Dean. I wouldn't have."

"...What?"

"I said I wouldn't have done the same thing," Sam sighed. "I'm sorry, Dean." He pushed his chair back from the table and started to get up and go back to his room.

Dean's mind went blank for a moment, hearing Sam's words but not fully comprehending them. Once it clicked, he felt anger burn scaldingly hot from his chest outwards.

Sam was almost to the hall when he heard a loud scraping noise from behind him. He turned around to see that Dean had pushed his chair back and was fuming towards him. He swallowed down the panic that was forcing its way up his throat.

"Dean, what-" he started until Dean grabbed him by his jacket collar and roughly shoved him up against the wall. Sam grunted in pain, pinned in place despite his taller stature. His head had hit the concrete wall with a low thunk, slowing his thinking speed.

What Sam could comprehend _fairly_ well was that Dean was fucking _pissed._

"Sam, you're gonna have to get that I would give my life, along with every other damn thing that I have, for you. Whether or not you accept that is your own damn problem, but like hell will I let you die on me again," Dean's voice wavered on the last few words, memories from the past forcing their way to the front of his mind. The anger that had flooded into him was replaced with an air of depression. His eyes glazed over, empty-looking, his hands clenching Sam's collar like a lifeline.

Sam tried to stay quiet, examining Dean's new behavior and not wanting to set him off again. He had started to gain back his focus, but Sam could not, for the life of him, figure out what was going on in Dean's head. He and Dean had fought in the likes of this many times, often ending with one or both of them black-eyed and split-lipped, but this time was different. While Dean was usually a shoot-first-ask-questions-later kinda guy, he still had at least a small amount of rationality.

Dean started to shake, his uneven breaths easily perceived by Sam when they were so close together. He looked so broken. So _fucking_ broken, and Sam couldn't take it.

Dean seemed to be waiting for something, staring intently at Sam until Sam had to break his gaze. After a tense moment of silence, Dean's expression fell as he sighed. He dropped his head, his grip loosening on Sam's jacket.

Sam took the chance while he still had it. He shoved Dean away from him, and Dean stumbled backwards, almost falling onto his back if not for Sam grabbing him and shoving him hard against the previously occupied wall.

Dean winced, breath unsteady, his glassy and tired-looking eyes widening. Sam could have sworn he noticed a hint of fear. Dean let his body slacken. The only thing keeping him from falling down was Sam pinning him against the wall.

Sam could see that Dean was unusually vulnerable as he slumped against the concrete, but he couldn't refrain from blurting what had been halfway out of his mouth for much too long.

"Dean, what the _fuck_ is wrong with you? How the hell can you expect me to accept it when you practically kill yourself for me? What about when you actually _do_ kill yourself for me? You always throw around your life like it's some replaceable toy, but it _isn't_ , Dean!"

Dean's breath caught, a red tint creeping over his nose and to his ears, seeming almost ashamed. He made an inaudible sound when his head fell back, closing his eyes and grimacing as if in pain. Sam glanced at Dean's throat as he swallowed and felt a sudden urge to touch him there. 

So he did. 

Dean flinched, eyes flying open as he felt a light brush along his neck. He looked at Sam in confusion and scratched where he had touched. 

Sam had abandoned his rage at some point, more focused on Dean's uncharacteristic reactions.Dean's demeanor had changed dramatically from moments ago when he, too, was raging about who-knows-what. Now he just kept attempting to shrink in on himself.

This left Sam with a brief opportunity to study his brother. He knew Dean's appearance well enough, as they had been around each other for the majority of both their lives, but seeing Dean so closely had forced him to notice small, seemingly insignificant details. Dean obviously had freckles, most noticeably over his nose, but light specks dusted under his eyes and faded out towards his cheekbones. One small freckle refused to cooperate and had planted itself right above the side of Dean's upper lip. Sam absently brought his hand up from Dean's jacket and ran his thumb across it.

Dean sucked in a breath, his eyes widening for a moment before he frowned.

Sam realized he had been holding his breath and released it. It came out a bit shakier than intended. How had he managed to get even closer to Dean? Their faces were inches apart, and Dean had begun to dart his eyes around the room, anywhere but at Sam.

Then Sam saw him flick his tongue over the small, out-of-place freckle, the one he had touched. And Sam's pupils bled out, leaving only a thin ring of color around the edges. His breath hitched, and he moved purely on instinct.

He grabbed the nape of Dean's neck and crushed their mouths together, groaning at the feeling of Dean's warm lips against his own. Dean's eyes widened even more, his face blushing a deep crimson. He didn't even fully register what was happening until his shock had allowed Sam's tongue to slip into his mouth, caressing the roof of it and then curling around Dean's own.

Dean whined. He fucking _whined._

Sam moaned low in his throat and bit Dean's lip between his teeth, breaking the skin and sucking the drop of blood that had escaped. Suddenly Dean shoved Sam backwards, but he only managed to part their mouths, a wet sound accompanying the disconnection. A string of saliva with a slight pink tinge linked them to each other, and Sam watched it with vague interest, licking his lips after it had broken.

Dean wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand and muttered what sounded like "son of a bitch" under his breath. 

Sam didn't say anything, just gazed warily at Dean who looked to be on the verge of panic.

Dean couldn't think of anything else to say besides that one expletive before. After a moment, he finally blinked and seemed to regain some sense. He let out a shaky breath and turned away, aiming to escape, but froze when he felt something pressed against his hip bone. 

"Sam, what the _fuck_ ," Dean hissed.

Sam regarded Dean for a second and then leaned closer to him. Dean put his hands up to stop Sam from nearing.

"Sam-" Dean began but was cut short when Sam grabbed his hands and restrained them against the wall above his head. Dean tried to pry his hands away from Sam's grip, but Sam used his hips to pin him against the concrete. Dean's breath stuttered when he felt Sam's body heat encompass him and his dick press far too close to his own. 

Sam watched Dean, and Dean stared back. He didn't know what to do. He noticed Sam's bloated pupils, pink face, and quickened breaths. For a moment, they both stood there, flush against one another, when Sam plastered an uncharacteristically smug grin across his face and leaned forward next to Dean's ear. Dean gulped audibly and tried to ignore the warm air that blew across the side of his face until Sam leaned closer and ran his tongue along the shell of his ear.

Dean flinched again and struggled anew to get free, but Sam easily held him in place. Sam didn't know what exactly it was that he was doing, but he wasn't going to stop. He caressed the line of his nose along Dean's jawline and neck, stopping at the juncture between the two to bite while simultaneously grinding his hips hard into Dean's. And Dean moaned.

" _Shit_ ," Sam bit out. Dean had scrunched his eyes closed and taken his already-broken lip between his teeth to try to control himself. That shouldn't have felt good. He shouldn't have reacted.

Sam continued when Dean didn't stop him. He licked over the mark he had left on Dean's neck as a half-hearted apology, shifting his hands so that one of them was holding both of Dean's restrained above his head. The other twined itself into the back of Dean's hair and pulled his mouth to Sam's again. Dean stood rigid between his brother and the wall, eyes still closed tightly when Sam's lips touched his. He tried to stop the gasp this time, but he failed. Sam's tongue entered his mouth, searching, caressing, dominating him.

Dean let out a breathy moan and subconsciously relaxed his body into Sam's, weakly kissing him back. He didn't know why he was kissing back, and he certainly didn't know why his dick was-

Sam's hips twitched forward, and they both gasped. Sam opened half-lidded eyes that he didn't even know he had closed to look at Dean who was watching him with an odd look on his face. Sam sucked in a breath and moved the hand that was cradling the back of Dean's head down to the hem of his pants, running his fingers lightly down his clothed body as he did so. Dean looked conflicted and kept tensing and relaxing his muscles, an internal battle of morals playing through his head.

Sam released Dean's hands from above him so that he could hurriedly unbuckle Dean's belt. Dean seemed to not know what to do with this new freedom, so he just let his hands drop to his sides. Sam was having a more difficult time taking in air than he did before, and after he not-so-gently yanked Dean's belt from the belt loops, he took off his jacket and shirt and then did the same with Dean's.

Dean could feel Sam's gentle breath huffing over his face as Sam unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. Dean still had no idea what to do. Sam was his brother. He had kissed his brother. Dean Winchester had kissed his _own_ brother and hardly even resisted. What the fuck. What the-

" _Fuck_ ," Dean moaned when Sam wrapped his hand around Dean's half-hard cock and squeezed. Dean's hands, that had been hanging idly, now grabbed hard onto Sam's shoulders.

Sam kept his hand still on Dean's cock to watch his reactions. Dean's eyes had closed again, but he was panting and digging his nails into Sam's shoulders. He glanced up at Sam and then averted his gaze, staring ashamedly past his shoulder. He didn't try to get away, but it was obvious that he had very mixed emotions.

Sam used his thumb to outline the vein on the underside of Dean's cock and listened to him suck in a breath and then hold it, biting on his lip and splitting it again. Sam loosened his grip at the base of his cock only to twist his hand up and tighten at the head. Dean shuddered and hummed a quiet, broken moan, but he seemed insistent to contain any more stray sounds.

Sam didn't like that. He wanted to make Dean lose control and release of some of the weight that he'd been dragging through the dirt all these years. He let his forefinger run across Dean's slit and spread the small drop of precome that had accumulated there before he dropped to his knees.

Dean looked down at him in confusion, and Sam watched the process of Dean working things out in his head. Something seemed to click because suddenly Dean's eyes widened, and he tried to back away. Sam smirked up at him and leaned forward.

"Wait, Sam, don't you fucking _dare_ put my-" Dean didn't get to finish that sentence because he flung his hands into Sam's hair to push him away. But Sam just snorted and pulled Dean's hips towards him instead. This caught Dean off guard so that he lost his balance and slid down the wall to the floor.

While Dean sat stunned for a moment, Sam readjusted himself and placed both his hands on Dean's hips to hold him to the ground. He ignored the sounds of protest from Dean, leaning down to lick the tip of his cock teasingly before sucking it into his mouth as far as it could go without making him gag.

Dean arched his back and cried out, his legs spreading wider of their own accord and allowing Sam to get closer. He buried his hands in Sam's hair, no longer trying to push him farther away in favor of relishing in the wet heat of his mouth. Sam tried to stay still, but it was too much. He gagged slightly, the muscles in his mouth and throat constricting. Dean keened, grinding his hips upward into Sam's mouth, but Sam controlled him by pushing his hips down into the floor..

Dean probably didn't notice that he had groaned in frustration and tried to roll his hips again, but Sam felt it. He smiled inwardly as Dean's self-restraint weakened. Then he pressed his tongue flat against the underside of Dean's cock and twisted his head on the upstroke.

"Oh god, _fuck_ ," Dean breathed raggedly. Sam could taste another bead of pre-come when he sucked the tip into his mouth, thriving on the noises Dean continued to let slip. He sucked up and down Dean's cock again, learning what made him react the most: going down slowly and then sucking hard when coming back up, stroking his tongue underneath the head, and running his teeth lightly along the shaft until Dean was panting and moaning and basically fucking Sam's mouth by himself.

Sam felt Dean tense up and knew he was about to come. It was much too soon for that, so he dipped his mouth down once more and removed it with a swipe of his tongue. Dean whimpered and tried to pull Sam back, desperately needing to fall over the edge. Sam felt a small smile form on his lips, delighting in how much Dean wanted him, or even just his mouth, for the time being.

Dean continued to pant, half-lidded with a glazed look in his eyes and a flush over his nose and cheeks. Sam thought he looked sorta cute like that. He leaned down to press a light kiss against Dean's lips and ignored the weak hand that tried to swat him away.

 _I've just given him a blow job, but a kiss is out of the question_ , Sam mused to himself, huffing and proceeding to pull Dean's pants and underwear off all the way.

"W-wait! Hold up, Sam!" Dean shrieked, obviously no longer in a languid state.

"Dean, just shut up for a second," Sam sighed. He had expected how stubborn Dean would be, but that didn't mean it wouldn't annoy him.

Sam spread Dean's bare legs apart while he sucked on his own index finger. Dean made an indignant noise, trying to pull his legs back together and cover himself. Sam shoved his knees back down to his sides and forced Dean's hands to the floor, having to stop sucking his finger to pin Dean down.

"Dean, this is the only thing even remotely close to lube that there is right now, so quit moving if you don't want it to hurt like hell. Unless of course you have some magical tube of it that you'll pull out of some magical place," Sam said sarcastically.

"Well, uh..."

"Oh my god. You have some in your jacket, don't you?"

"Uh, maybe, but-"

"Hah!"

"Shut up!"

Sam was still laughing when he grabbed Dean's discarded jacked from the floor and picked through the pockets, his fingers encircling a small tube. He pulled it out, threw the jacket back to the floor, and gave Dean a pointed look as he held up the bottle. Dean scoffed, crossing his arms loosely and looking away with a blush.

A small smile remained on Sam's face as he squeezed what he thought would be an adequate amount of the liquid onto his finger. When it was coated, he glanced at Dean who was eyeing him nervously. Sam gave him a reassuring look and scooted between his still-parted legs. Dean looked like he wanted to say something.

"Say it now or you can't complain later, Dean," Sam said a bit impatiently.

"I-I've never actually, uh..." Dean hesitated while shifting around on the floor.

"I know you're an ass virgin, idiot. Although, it is a bit surprising considering the fact that you-"

"I'm not gay!"

"No, of course not. Many people like to pretend that bisexuality doesn't exist, but I'm not one of those people," Sam teased, amusing himself by watching Dean's facial expressions morph to different degrees of annoyance.

"I'm not-"

Dean choked out a surprised moan when Sam used his distraction to push a lubed finger in to the second knuckle.

"Come again?" Sam smirked at the pun. Dean gave him a death glare and attempted to scoot away, confused at feeling slight pleasure and pain at the same time. 

"Sam, stop. Please, we can't. We can't do this," Dean breathed.

Sam, like the bastard he was, just hummed and started to push his finger in further, twisting it a little so that it would go in easier. Dean made an uncomfortable noise and tensed, the pain only intensifying.

Sam, frustrated with Dean's inevitable but still aggravating stupidity, pulled his finger out so he could lube up a second and third. Dean tried to use that moment to his advantage and get away, pushing himself up with his hands, but Sam grabbed both of his legs and pulled them out from under him before he could get to his feet. Sam glared at Dean until he pushed the three fingers into him without warning.

Dean recoiled, the infiltration being the one of most unpleasant and painful things he had ever experienced. 

"What the _hell_ , Sam?!"

"I told you to stay still." 

"I'm not just gonna-"

Sam bent forward, their bodies parallel, and covered Dean's mouth threateningly with his hand.

" _Stay. Fucking. Still._ "

Dean gaped beneath his palm, disbelief in his eyes. Sam scissored the fingers still inside of Dean, grinding them in different places until suddenly Dean's eyes widened and then rolled back into his head, his spine arching sharply. A long, low moan emanated from the bottom of Dean's throat, making Sam's still clothed dick twitch against his leg.

Sam continued to press his fingers into Dean's prostate, alternating between hard and light strokes; Dean continued to moan and whine and pant, gyrating his hips against that fucking _amazing_ friction. Every time Dean let out a particularly arrant sound, Sam would end up grinding his dick on Dean's leg. 

Sam noticed that Dean was beginning to move more desperately, precome leaking at a steady rate onto his stomach, so he slowed his movements. Dean responded by slurring inarticulate curses under his breath and jerking his hips down to get Sam to move again.

Sam thought he had stretched Dean well enough, so he curled his fingers up to brush against Dean's prostate one last time before slipping them out. He had to be quick, as Dean only needed a short amount of time to recuperate from being on the edge. 

Sam unzipped his pants and pulled them off, sighing when his throbbing cock was finally released. For a brief moment, he let his hand stroke along the shaft and his thumb swipe over the head, taking his lip between his teeth to keep unnecessarily wanton sounds in his mouth. He grabbed the bottle of lube from beside him and squeezed a generous amount onto his hand, glancing at Dean when he looked up at the lewd sounds coming from the thin tube.

Dean was slumped against the wall, pupils bloated, face flushed, legs outspread, panting open-mouthed breaths that filled the room. To any other person, it would look like Dean wouldn't get his bearings straight until he came, but Sam knew better. He would probably be punched in the face as soon as Dean had half a second to think. Dean was always thinking. Always _over_ thinking.

 _Shit_ , Sam thought when he saw realization flicker in Dean's eyes. He had waited a second too long. He took his cock into his hand and spread the lube over it quickly, hissing at the chilled temperature.

Dean's eyes widened while his jaw dropped comically. He was starting to panic, staring straight at Sam with horror-filled eyes as his breathing rate increased to the point of hyperventilation. 

_Oh my god. Oh my fucking god. What have I done. What have I fucking DONE_ , scraped along the inside of Dean's skull, scarring itself there. Then another thought forced its way to Dean's attention. He had liked it. Dean had fucking _liked_ it. He had been moaning like a goddamn whore. For _Sam_. For his _brother_.

Sam knew he had to hurry. He could see Dean invalidating himself already, which was not good at all. Dean blamed himself for everything. Always. He could probably make himself believe that World War I was his fault if he thought hard enough. 

But Dean was too tense. Sam could feel self-hatred emanating off of him in waves. He had to do something to calm Dean down. 

He leaned forward, closer to where his brother was laying on the floor, and took the sides of his face lightly in his hands, draping his body atop of Dean's with the least amount of pressure possible. He watched Dean's confused expressions while rubbing gentle circles on his cheekbones, at the same time leaning forwards to roll his bare erection against Dean's own.

Dean let slip a pathetic whine and what sounded like a dry sob. He was still hard. They both were. Sam wanted this, and he was certain that Dean did, too. Dean just happened to have his moral compass pointing north while Sam's had been destroyed.

Sam made eye contact with Dean and nodded to him, a quick signal, before taking his own cock into his hand and positioning it at Dean's entrance. He could see the feeble warning that Dean was trying to give him. _Don't_. But Dean was an idiot if he thought he could stop this now.

Sam hastily checked the slickness of his cock before pushing in the head. A full body shudder ran through him at the heat and tightness and _heat_. Dean was so fucking _hot_ , and it was going to make Sam lose his mind. He had to physically stop himself from pounding all the way into Dean and fucking him into the floor. Sam didn't want to hurt him, but it was getting a lot more difficult to wait for Dean to adjust when Dean was clenching down so hard.

Dean had cried out at the intrusion, tensing even though he knew it would only make it worse. It was too much. It was too foreign. It was too... Sam. It was _Sam_. Sam was _in him_. _Oh god no. Nonononono. I can't let this-_

"Dean, I need to move. _Please_ ," Sam breathed into Dean's neck as he panted and shook above him, using all of his strength to be still. 

"Sam, I don-"

But then Dean twitched around him. Sam couldn't stop himself this time. His hips jerked forward into that tight heat until he was completely buried, moaning an octave higher and proceeding to gasp out apologies. 

"Oh my god, Dean. I'm so sorry I-" Sam began but stopped abruptly when he saw Dean let his head fall back against the floor, eyes tightly closed, brows pinched together, and mouth gaping wide, a silent cry. 

For a moment, Sam panicked. _Did I hurt him? Why the fuck did I let this happen?_ But he gasped when he realized that Dean's hands were digging into his shoulders. Not pushing Sam away, but pulling him down. Closer to him. It wasn't pain that Dean had felt; it was _ecstasy_. 

By chance, Sam had managed to ram his cock directly into Dean's prostate. A fucking lucky chance or Dean could have been hurt bad. Sam memorized his position before he began to pull back slowly. Dean's fingers were clasped so hard on Sam's shoulders that Sam could feel each individual pad. 

When Sam had arranged himself so that only the tip of his cock was inside, he drove back in, aiming directly for that one spot that could have Dean coming in minutes. 

" _Ohmyfuckinggod_ ," Dean moaned as he ground his hips up against Sam's, seeming to have forgotten about hesitation. Sam groaned into Dean's neck, licking the vein there. 

Dean was fucking horny. And hard. As Sam pulled back out and thrust back in, drops of pre-come fell onto his stomach. It was so good. Fucking _amazing_. It burned and stretched him too much, but that, added with the continuously quickening thrusts into his prostate, was only turning him on more.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are very much appreciated! I also kinda need the motivation to finish this, and reviews are helpful for that. And thank you thank you thank you to everyone that has already left a kudos, comment, review, etc. It means so much! 
> 
> Thank you (I'm sorry) for taking the time to read this!


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